Unbidden Passions
by jacyevans
Summary: Dawn begins having dreams of a dark, dangerous stranger who becomes her obsession and she'll do anything to have him..."Without passion, we'd be truly dead." Dawn's POV - Dawn/Tom Riddle


_Title: Unbidden Passions_

_Author: Jacy (rememberingnyc2001@yahoo.com)_

_Pairing: Dawn/Tom Riddle_

_Genre: BtVS/Harry Potter_

_Rated: R_

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the goddess J.K Rowling. Buffy belongs to Joss Whedon...and I own the keyboard. _

_Distribution: Ask and you shall receive :)_

_Feedback: PLEASE!!_

_A/N: I have no idea where this came from. It is a dark fic, so if you don't like darkness or Evil!Dawn, don't read. This is what my sick, twisted mind thought up, and I had to commit it to paper. So here you are. Hope you like it. The quotes in this story are from the episode of Buffy titled "Passion"._

~**~

_Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir...open it's jaws and howl. It speaks to us, guides us. Passion rules us all, and we obey. What other choice do we have?_

~**~

I was seventeen when I first dreamt of him. Dark black hair, eyes so deep that they could bore into my soul. The dreams came unbidden at a time in my life when I was most confused of my place among a world where every girl that was privileged enough to be born as a "potential" Chosen One was now born a slayer.

How I wanted to be one of them. They would all go on their nightly escapades killing demons while I was left at home to play Scrabble with Xander and Jonathan over pizza and some stupid Sci-Fi movie I always fell asleep watching.

On this particular night, we were at Giles' house in England. I was sitting in my room writing in my diary, a habit I had only recently picked up again, when a large, black owl landed on the windowsill. I was startled at first, but then intrigue set in. The owl was exotic looking, a midnight black that looked a deep blue or purple when the moonlight rolled off of its feathers the right way. I reached out a hand to touch it and it nipped at my finger. I pulled back with a yell and watched the blood reach the surface. The bird looked at me, an apology in its features, before flying away. 

It was then that I realized that birds couldn't apologize. But those eyes…since when did birds have silver eyes? I let the thoughts roll off my back as some figment of my overactive imagination and went to sleep.

And that's when the dreams started. They weren't normal dreams either. They were full of lust and passion and need. I remember I woke up sweating, blushing at the knowledge that the girl who was doing _that _in the dream was me. But the man – and he was definitely a man – was someone that I didn't recognize. But he was beautiful – dangerously beautiful.

And he became my obsession. 

There wasn't a night after that when I didn't dream about him. It never felt like a dream. When I awoke, my senses were still on overdrive, like he was really there with me. I could feel his hands against my skin, the silk sheets underneath my bare back, see the darkness enshrouding the room, the black coverlet we laid on, the cloud of pure mystery that seemed to surround him at all times. I could hear us moving together, my moans mingling with his throughout the room, smell a scent that was uniquely his mixed with my own. And I could still taste him on my lips – a taste that was completely him that drove me wild. 

It became almost necessary for me to make him a reality.

~**~

_Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love, the clarity of hatred, and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear._

~**~

One morning over a year later, I thought I'd found him. 

Giles introduced us to two of people he used to go to school with, along with their son and godson – Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, and their friend, Hermione Granger.

Harry. I took one glance at him, and for a moment, my breath caught in my throat. The same dark hair. The same deep colored eyes. The same sense of mystery. I smiled as I was introduced to him. He was nineteen, a year older then me, but what did it matter? I found _him_ – 

And I made it my business to make him mine. 

They were there on business he said. Some dark wizard was after power and he found out the perfect source was a Key of Glory, currently residing within an eighteen year old girl who just happened to be the sister of a slayer. They were here to protect said girl.

Lucky me.

I set about to seducing him almost immediately. I flirted with him, I touched him at any moment I was given the chance. Hermione glared daggers at me. After a week, she actually confronted me about it. She said she knew what I was trying to do, that I was trying to seduce Harry for my own purposes and then just drop him. Oh Hermione – sweet, gullible little Hermione. I let her think this was child's play, when in actuality, this was a game for the big kids. 

I decided to make my move before she had her chance. I convinced Buffy to go out and leave me and Harry alone. She believed every lie that left my mouth – I didn't want to go out, I didn't feel well, Xander should get out and have fun, I don't want to be alone – can Harry stay with me? She always could be so naïve sometimes. 

So, Harry and I were alone and watching a movie when I made my move, and let's just put it this way – I have yet to see more then the first fifteen minutes of Pearl Harbor. We didn't go much farther then kissing and groping, but I wanted to, and I could tell he wanted to as well. 

But I played hard to get. I was biding my time until I made my next move. 

You should have seen the look on Hermione's face that night when she came home and found out that Harry and I were "dating". If looks could kill, I'd be dead seven times over. She was completely cold towards me from that point on, and I was just as much of a bitch towards her. She was in love with him, I realized – she was in love with him, and I took him away.

What, you think I regretted it? No – not one bit.

We were going out for a few months before I finally had my way with him. And that's when I realized I'd made a horrible mistake. Something was off – something wasn't right. I thought it was maybe because it was only the first time we were having sex – and contrary to popular belief, he was not my first; I'd jumped that hurdle two years prior and Harry confessed he has as well – and that maybe things would get better with time.

But they didn't. I was still having the dreams, and the wild ecstasy I felt in those dreams was making me despairing and upset. Harry seemed so happy. Passion was good to him, but was being a royal bitch to me. I hated the dreams, but I loved them all at the same time. The same with Harry – I did fall in love with him, but at the same time, I hated him for not being "the man of my dreams," so to speak. I cried myself to sleep more often then not from the frustration of it all. I wanted to break up with him, and I didn't want to break up with him. I had to make a choice for myself.

But he ended up making the decision for me. And that's when the dreams stopped.

~**~

_If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank._

~**~

Harry took me out on a date one night, and we took a moonlit walk by the lake behind Giles' house. And he broke up with me. He said that he didn't feel like we connected anymore, that things were getting too complicated for him. He didn't understand what he was feeling and he needed to sort things out, he was so sorry. I showed no emotion the entire time. How could he do this to me? We'd been going out for almost a year – it was three weeks away from my twentieth birthday.

He apologized, gave me one last kiss and walked me home. I cried myself to sleep that night. And I didn't dream.

Two weeks later, Harry told me that he and Hermione had started dating. Hermione had this triumphant smile on her face, and I was miserable, but not because of him or her, but because of the dreams. I'd stopped dreaming, and it was killing me. I needed to feel, I craved that touch of ecstasy whenever I dreamt of _him_, and he was gone – vanished from my life. 

By the night of my birthday, even Hermione was worried about me. I was moping around the house. I couldn't eat right or sleep beyond short naps. I was thoroughly upset, and I didn't know how to bring _him_ back.

How was I to know that this night would change my life? 

They all took me out to a club for my birthday. The moment we arrived, I slammed two odd wizard drinks. The feeling of the liquor burning down my throat made me smile. If I couldn't feel passion, I could at least feel drunk and at peace with myself. Everyone was on the dance floor and I was at the bar alone when he entered, the person who would change my life. 

He was young, with blonde hair that fell into his face and a gleam in his eye that screamed "predator". I caught sight of him and licked my lips. He held out his hand beckoning me to follow and I did. We made our way to the dance floor bumping and grinding to the music. The sheer provocativeness of it all was enough to make some of the other patrons stare. I felt his hands on my hips and gasped as he kissed my neck, nibbled lightly on my shoulder before kissing me hard on the mouth. I yielded whole-heartedly, needing to feel again and if this handsome stranger would bring back my dreams, then he could have me.

He pulled away and went back to laying hot, open-mouthed kisses along my neck before whispering, "I know about you and Harry."

I tried to pull back to look into his face, but he only pulled me closer, his hands inching their way up my shirt. "How do you know…" 

"_He _knows all," he said before kissing me again, softly this time. He knew just how to drive me wild. 

"What do you mean _he_?" I asked, one hand unconsciously making their way up his shirt, the other snaking down his pants. 

He grinned wildly and kissed me again. He grabbed my wrist at his waist and tilted my chin up. "Potter's an idiot," he said. "How could he exchange something so graceful and powerful for a Mudblood like Granger?"

I looked up into his eyes and that's when I saw their color – silver. Just like the owl that sat on my windowsill the night the dreams started. He must have seen the recognition flash across my face because he kissed me again without pretense before saying, "He's waiting for you. All you have to do is give in to him. He's been waiting for you for a long time. It's not like they think – they all assume he's going to kill you because he wants your power –"

"Kill me?" My voice must have dropped, my heart pounding in my chest. I looked up at him. "He's Voldemort."

He nodded. "Yes. He is. But he doesn't want to kill you Dawn," he said, kissing me softly. "He wants you to be his," he whispered. "All you have to do is say yes. Think about it – no more sitting around waiting for the slayers to come home, no more needing protection. You'll be free. Strong. And more powerful then ever."

I turned around and looked at Buffy. My sister, the champion of the world. And Harry – Harry and Hermione living out their happy lives. They all thought I was still a child. I was about to show them how childish I wasn't.

I took his hand and let him lead me towards the door. "Show me where he is," I said a glint in my eye not much unlike Willow's the night she started using dark magic.

He smiled and bowed slightly. "Of course. I think we'll be good friends, you and I." He kissed my knuckles and we both disappeared from the club. 

I opened my eyes and found myself in the middle of a beautiful room I'd seen many times before. The same darkness, the same unique mystery.

When _he_ stepped out of the shadows, I knew that my search was over. He took one look at me and smiled. It was pure evil. 

And I loved it.

"Hello Dawn," he said stepping over to me and brushing a piece of hair out of my face.

"I knew I'd find you," I said. "I'm yours," I said, a new strength in my voice.

He continued smiling and kissed me with wild abandon. When we made love that night, I knew that I had made the right choice. I'd never felt so alive.

It's been over a year since I've seen them. They thought I was taken against my will – Hermione had seen Draco lead me from the club. She thought I was a prisoner.

Oh, if she only knew. 

We're going to attack tonight. Imagine their surprise when they see Lord Voldemort, once again young and strong, with those among his ranks like Draco Malfoy and his girlfriend, Virginia Weasley, another shadow of the light that made her way into the darkness. 

And me – weak little Dawn Summers at the right hand of the most powerful dark wizard the world has ever known. They think they can stop us, but we'll show them.

The world is ours, he and I. Me and my Tom.

I'll see them burn before they keep us apart again. 

~**~

_Without passion, we'd be truly dead._

~* End *~


End file.
